Zandian Lights (Zandian Brides 4)

“Then enlighten me. Because otherwise I’ll have to wait several long solar cycles for enlightenment.” I gesture toward the crystal caves. “And isn’t sooner better than later?”

“Ah, Kianna,” he growls and leans down. We’re so close he’s pressed against me. I could say it’s because of the surging crowd, pushing on us from all sides. I could argue that we’ve been tossed together by the undulating currents in the seething mass of life. But we’re still alone in this small grotto. The truth is that I’m here because there’s no other place I’d rather be. And I swear, by the look in his eyes, he feels the exact same way.

A collective hiss and sigh of appreciation grows as the sun hits the edge of the crystal. The light is so brilliant—it’s easy to imagine that the next time the sun hits this crystal, it will light up the entire planet.

And as the beams spread out over all of us, I can’t resist. I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his for a second.

“Veck, Kianna,” he mutters against my mouth. “What are you doing?” Then he takes my lips with his, kissing me like his life depends on it.

I’m caught up in the moment. I’ve never felt like this in my entire life. I’ve not kissed a being before, but it’s like I know what to do. Mykl’s body and hands mesh with mine effortlessly. He snakes one arm around my waist, the other behind my neck pulling me to him. His hips press into me and his cock prods my belly, so hard I suck in my breath and moan, a breathy little noise.

He growls and nips my lip, then thrusts his tongue into my mouth, playing with me. I’m ready to swoon against him, but his strong arms support me.

I’m full of giddy tingles. Electricity. The light is like a lover’s caress, touching my hair, my cheeks, my eyelids. And then there’s Mykl, with his real embrace, and between the two sensations, I can barely handle the stimulation. A growing need in my core has me pushing harder into him, trying to ease the want.

Beside me, I hear someone murmur. It sounds like, “Are you seeing this?” The intonation makes it clear that she’s talking about me and Mykl, and not the crystal flash.

Fuck. Other beings have entered the grotto.

Mykl pulls away from me. For a second we both just breathe, harder than usual, before he turns his eyes away. “Kianna… that was a mistake. I am your master, not your mate. It will never happen again.” He runs a hand over his mouth.

“But I…” I’m still panting, still mesmerized by his aroma, his feel.

He takes my arms and holds me in place while he steps back. I’ve never seen his horns so thick, so slanted forward, like they’re reaching for me. “It was an… aberration.”

“An aberration?”

“If you don’t know what it means, I suggest you consult a dictionary. I thought you humans had a greater capacity for absorbing knowledge.”

There it is. The familiar cutting reply. He crosses his arms, looking supremely uncomfortable. “And I’m not sure your mates-in-waiting would appreciate the fact that you’re off kissing another Zandian. It’s not honorable.” He spits the words out, like my dishonor is proof I’m not worthy.

Oh, fuck me right now.

“That is not fair.” My voice rises. “You kissed me back. You liked it.”

“That may be, but it can’t happen again. Go find your young warriors, Kianna.” His brows slash down even more than usual.

“What if I don’t want them?” I blurt it out.

Again, I swear I see something flicker in his expression. Is it relief?

For one long moment, we stare at each other. His nostrils flare, a muscle jumps in his jaw. But he thrusts the knife in deeper and twists. “Find someone else. But it won’t be me, Kianna. It can’t be me.” He sounds tired, suddenly.

I suck in my breath. It’s one thing to know it. Another to hear it.

“Why? You think I’m not good enough?” I’m poking a fingernail into a wound. But I need to ask.

Regret flickers in his gaze, then he looks away. “If I mate any being, it will be a full-blooded Zandian.” His voice is low. “Or no being at all.”

I shake my head. “You’re such an ass.”

He rakes me with his eyes. “Don’t tempt me again. And never dress like this at work. You must comport yourself in a professional manner.”

Comport myself? Go take a flying fuck, Master.

He turns and walks away, pushing through the throng easily, leaving me there—surrounded by hundreds of happy beings, and entirely alone.

Tears come to my eyes and I swipe at them. Curse.